


Powerless

by Evenseven



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst?, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Bottom!Aragorn, Hurt/Comfort, I'm kidding it's fluff, In Rivendell, Light Dom/sub, M/M, No Beta, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Subspace, Top!Legolas, other subtle stuff I'm too lazy to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:40:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26008150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evenseven/pseuds/Evenseven
Summary: “Aragorn, you need to let it go.”
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Legolas Greenleaf
Comments: 5
Kudos: 57





	Powerless

**Author's Note:**

> A little try out for some more serious stuff I guess. No, honestly, it's just a pwp.
> 
> I had this idea before sleep and I ran it over again and again in my head, warning myself not to forget when I woke up. I ended up sleeping like shit AND forgetting half of what I wanted to write anyway.
> 
> No beta and I'm sorry for my bad writing really.

Aragorn screamed in silence the second he got pinned down, naked from head to toe, by Legolas into the soft mattress of his very own bed in Imladris, vulnerable as one could possibly be and unable to break free. Fierce warrior of mankind he was, it still seemed impossible to escape the grasp of Legolas. The weight of elven body was nothing to him, but the force he used on his bonded wrists and spread thighs was too hard to fight against. It’s not the physical restrain, but the idea of losing control over himself that drove him to madness. Yet the more he tried to wiggled free, the stronger of force he received from a certain Mirkwood elf.

Good thing Legolas can’t see the fear inside my eyes, Aragorn thought to himself while his burning face half way buried into the pillow.

He could take no more, staying still and letting another do whatever they wished to him, just the thought of it alone made his heart sink and breath shorten. He wanted, no, _needed_ to be in control, to have the power of at least his own body, while everything else in Middle Earth seemed unable to predict. Losing such power terrified him, as much as he wanted to submit, his body reacted otherwise spontaneously.

“Aragorn, you need to let it go.” Legolas’ voice was ever so tender, as the feather-like breath reached the back of his shoulder, where the elf planted an almost untraceable kiss.

“I cannot.” He answered in few words, but the courage it took to utter his mind was well reflected in his hoarse voice.

The urge to fight was too strong to ignore, despite the sweet words of Legolas, and the cool, soft, and almost fragile skin of the elf pressing against his back. He wanted to let go, he really did, knowing his friend and lover could never truly hurt him, that it was no foe creature or dark enemy lurking in the dark, but a pair of pure blue eyes, oh so gentle and loving. But he couldn’t simply order his body to do so, his mind was too hard to bend, even for himself. Part of him wanted but the dearest affection from Legolas, the other part cried for defense.

He needed to regain his power, no matter the naked state he was in, he needed the reassurance of his own strength.

“Let…go…”

No! I could never!

“You don’t have to be in control all the time…”

But I must! I am the last, long lost king of Gondor and Arnor. How am I supposed to reign over an honorable land without having control?

“You can count on others sometimes…”

I could count on no one else! The wright of this world is landed on me, and I must show the bravery and merit of saving mankind. I must protect all others, the men in need, the beautiful land I once dwelled, the innocent halflings…Oh by the Valar! The brave halflings! I must protect them from all evil to the very end of Mountain Doom, and look what I have done? One of them got hurt badly already on the way to Rivendell, oh Frodo…If not for dear Glorfindel, Frodo would have been dead under his care.

“All four of them would have been dead at Amon Sûl if not for you…”

I must not show my weakness! Though I am powerless as it seemed, failed to bring the hobbits here safely…What good am I if I cannot even control my own body now?

“You are not weak, Aragorn, never weak. You only need to surrender to the right one, to let yourself be loved…”

No…I must help them…

“Let it go, and know that even in such powerless state, you are still the master of your own mind. You must trust me…”

I do trust you, Legolas, I do not, however, trust myself enough to show my frailty.

“You have me…”

I have no one and no one would have me…

“ _Estel_ …”

Who is Estel? Could it possibly be my name? But I was not called this name for years, that life was abandon long behind me. I am not him anymore.

“ _Estel_ …”

I am not him! I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Isildur and I have a destiny to fulfill. In order to do that I must fight till the very last fiber of my essence is destroyed…

“Please, you need to let it go…”

No…I cannot…Even if I want to…Legolas, I want to, but I…

“Just focus on me, Estel. it’s safe, you’re safe with me…”

Legolas, I cannot. Could you not see that I am dying? I need it, I need every thing I can grasp even there is so few. Please…

“Estel! Breathe…”

For a split moment Aragorn couldn’t breathe, he panted in despair as his vision went dark. He was about to shut himself up until he felt a delicate kiss on his shoulder, soothing the tense muscles and gave him a glimpse of light before the darkness.

He was safe and he knew it. With Legolas, right here at his _home_ , he was safe and worry-free.

“That’s it, Estel, you are doing so well. Just let it go, give it to me and let me take the lead…” Legolas murmured at his ear, in a comforting yet definite voice. Some point along the way of his life he needed to learn, how to let go of control and open up his heart. It wasn’t an easy journey but Aragorn was no ordinary man, and Legolas was no ordinary elf.

Trust, he tried to regain the pace of breathing and he thought about the trust Legolas offered him, and that he should offer back.

Panting into the soft pillow that smelled of gardenia and tea leaf, Aragorn fought himself into submission as his stronger muscles contracted and relaxed under the firm grip of the elf. He was much more placid now, keeping himself as still as he could to surrender wordlessly to the elf. There was a significant difference between being held down and doing so willingly, Legolas must understand that as well. While he was sinking deeper into the oblivion, Legolas’ wet kisses held him back. 

The grip on his wrist loosened, surely there might be dark marks left behind, but he was free again. The impulse to escape made his shoulder tremble, but the cooling hands of the wood-elf slid down his shoulder blades to the small of his back, circling the rigid muscles as the voice reached his ears.

“Worry not, my friend, let me take care of you.”

So he gave in.

There were things he would do for Legolas that never in a million years for another, things like allowing his vulnerability to display. He had forgotten the meaning of letting go since the coming of age, and never thought he would pick it back one day.

But Legolas was different, he had always been different. If there was anyone he could trust with all his heart, mind, and body, this one shall be Legolas only. He loved Legolas with all his heart, and the wood-elf knew him well enough to a certain degree of completion, even some things he dared not to utter.

He could feel Legolas’ fingers coated with some moist fluid, sliding down from to the secret opening, breaching and stretching the muscle. Legolas left small bites and kissed on the up rump of his backside, sometimes tender as quill, sometimes ferocious as tempest. Aragorn managed to keep his breath steady for the most part, until a wet tongue reached the cleft between his cheeks so he forgot how to inhale.

Aragorn couldn’t see, but the image in his head of Legolas kneeling between his legs, bitting and _licking_ him, was ever erotic and pushed him slowly to the edge. He wanted to touch himself but remained unmoving, simply because Legolas didn’t tell him to do so. He was beyond the point of resisting, learning to breathe in an acceptable pace was already a challenging task in hand.

When Legolas buried his hot shaft all the way inside Aragorn, the pain was not so insufferable. It burned more in his head than his body, being taken by another being and it hurt, deeply inside that he would not say. Yet he was willing to do so, to yield to Legolas, to break out of his grimy mindset once in a while, to let someone else take the lead. Acknowledging that not everything was under his control was difficult, more so now than ever. Aragorn had faith in the people of Middle Earth, but was not so assured about himself. Legolas was the reminder that he needed not to concern about every matter in this world, that he could share this burden with true companions, like the fellowship that was formed.

“Estel…” Legolas whispered at his redden ear, with every trust he could feel the pleasure building inside him. Aragorn set his body completely open for his lover, leaned back and was eager for the touch, but Legolas pressed his broad shoulder down with gentle but firm hands.

Nothing else mattered to Aragorn any more at this point, every breath he took was Legolas’ scent, every note he heard was Legolas’ soft moans. Aye, he would give anything to him, even himself, and particularly himself. While nothing else in this world was under his power, he would still offer the very last thing he possessed.

It was much easier after he gave in, mentally permitted himself to be taken and held down. Legolas pushed the base of his muscular thighs further apart, thrust the hot shaft deeper inside him, bumping into somewhere that made Aragorn gasp, half in relish half in desperation. He needed not to voice his desire, for Legolas could read him better than anyone, and the elf waited no time to pound back in at the same angle.

Trapping between friction of the bed sheet and warm body of the elf, Aragorn found the rapture was peaking to an almost unbearable echelon. Legolas’ gentle lips found the curve of his neck, leaving a trace of red marks all the way up to his earlobe. The slim fingers locked on his waist were so forceful that he was sure they would leave behind some nasty bruises, but Aragorn didn’t mind the pain. Or rather, he wanted the pain, he wanted the vigorous sensation to remind him that he could indulged himself to be touched, that he deserved to be loved, even only once in a while.

Mayhap just once in a while, he would allow himself to forget.

He climaxed so fiercely just like that, causing a near _whimper_ then biting his lips hard after realizing what he did. His fingered gave the pillow a white-knuckle clutch, tasting blood on his bottom lip and licking them away in silence. Legolas leaned over to kiss him, saying something quietly that he was too deep into a trance to catch. He felt the elf release inside him after a dozen more trusts, but Legolas wouldn’t let him slip away from his tight embrace.

He was trapped again, but it mattered no more, for he was safe tonight in Legolas’ arms.

“Legolas…” Aragorn wanted to say something, but the dim candle light of his bedroom created a shadow that slowly creeped into his exhausted dream.

Legolas pressed another soft blow on his bleeding lips. “Rest, Estel, we have much to prepare tomorrow before the quest sets off.”

Don’t leave me.

_Nathon naer pe gwaog._

He didn’t utter any of these words, and he needed not to. The elf closed his slender fingers on the back of his hand, like another taciturn reassurance in response to his insecurity.

“ _Avon gwaed._ ” Legolas breathed to him with an affectionate smile, that pair of icy blue irises was the last thing he saw before drifting away into the gloomy deep.

_You said once we're born to be doomed_

_But darling, we're only doomed to be born_

_into this colorless, devastating world_

_Alas, authentic dream is all we have_

_only in there could I hold your hands_

Subtitles:  S.

_Nathon naer pe gwaog_. - I will be sad if you leave.  
 _Avon gwaed. -_ I won’t go.


End file.
